
Gass. 
Book 



REMINISCENCES 

OF 

it 

GREENWICH 7 " f 



BY 



BESSIE AYARS ANDREWS 

author of 

Historical Sketches of Greenwich in Old Conhansev 

"Colonial and Old Houses of Greenwich" 



PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 

VINELAND, NEW JERSEY 
1910 



G. E. SMITH. PRINTER 
VINELAND, N. J. 



or 



U 






I 

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PREFACE 

Having published "Historical Sketches of Greenwich" 
and "Colonial and Old Houses," I add to my contributions 
and compilations my "Reminiscences of Greenwich," pre- 
senting forgotten pictures of men and things that were in 
actuality about fifty years ago and many years previous. 
I also add old authentic history taken from books written 
early in the eighteenth century that are rarely seen at the 
present time, regarding the Indians of South Jersey. 

I trust this little work may be of interest and infor- 
mation to the living present and receive the same appre- 
ciation as my former books. 



BESSIE AYARS ANDREWS 



Vineland, New Jersey 
December, 1910 



Old mem' rits linger with us 
From childhood's sunny day, 
When life was in its morning 
And all its hours were play. 
We lift the veil that others 
May know the past again, 
While cannons loud were booming 
Within our borders then. 
From old and time worn pages, 
By reading o'er and o'er, 
We've added to our memories 
Some history of yore. 



CHAPTER I. 
Urmttttarenrejs of (grratttrirlf. 

A half century ago my father's shop stood a few rods 
east of our home in old Historic Greenwich. It was a large 
two-story building, with an attic, having sheds and low build- 
ings attached to it The first floor was the wheelwright shop, 
where were six benches with a vise attachment ; a workman 
or an apprentice at every bench. The music of saw and plane 
and stroke of hammer was heard every day during working 
hours, and the new shaven wood gave out as delicate and 
sweet an odor as new mown hay. The ground floor was 
carpeted with wood shavings, which were carried out for 
fire kindlings. 

The exterior of the building retained its color of natural 
wood, darkened by the passing years of time. In the interior 
the workmen had tested their paint brushes on the doors and 
window sills, giving them an oriental dash of color. On the 
west end was an enclosed shed, and upon its flat roof the 
heavy crane in front of the building would swing the vehicle 
up too, or down from, as occasion demanded. On the roof of 
this shed stood a ladder, the only way of access to the attic, 



6 REMINISCENCES 

which contained relics of the past ; such as spinning and card- 
ing wheels, looms and other things that had outlived their 
day of usefulness. 

The second floor was where the carriage body was 
painted. There were small drawers on the north side of this 
room that contained material for the mixture of paint ; such 
as Prussian and indigo blue, Spanish brown, yellow ochre 
and other pigments. The second room on this floor contained 
leather and trimmings and everything that pertained to the 
finishing of the carriage ; there was a bench with a vise, a 
saddler's bench, a hanging desk and chests of material ; this 
room we children gathered for play. There were six windows, 
from which were fine landscape views. In front was a hill 
with a stone quarry at its summit, with seemingly an inex- 
haustible supply of free stone, as they were mostly carting 
away and digging out new perches. 

Just west of the quarry was an old burying ground, where 
the colored people of Springtown buried their dead. If we 
children, could catch a view of a procession slowly winding up 
the hill from this shop room window our play was suspended, 
a quick exit made and a hasty run up the hill, by the quarry, 
to stand by the fence to observe the closing scene of their 
obsequies. After they had assembled around the open grave, 
the leader would line a couplet of a hynm, then the mourners 
would sing the lines with their musical voices in sad pathetic 
minor strains until all the sad rites were performed. There 
was a very old church in this burial ground in 1830, remem- 



OF GREENWICH 7 

bered by the oldest residents that were living fifty years ago, 
and was known by the name of Ambury Hill. 

From the same windows could be seen the roof of our 
Alma Mater, above the hawthorne hedges that bordered the 
road on either side. Previous to 1850 the children of the 
head of Greenwich and the surrounding locality attended 
school at the stone school house on the main street. About 
that time a new district was formed and a school house erected 
in close proximity to our home. The first teachers in this 
building later filled positions of usefulness in the larger walks 
of life. The first teacher that taught in the new building is 
said to be Jacob Flannigan. The first one in the writer's re- 
membrance was Rev. Lewis Githens, who became an Episcopal 
rector of much note. The teacher to whom the writer com- 
menced regular attendance was Miss Sophia Tomlinson, who 
became a physician, practising many years in Providence, 
Rhode Island, and having retired from active service, resides in 
the village of Shiloh, New Jersey. Another teacher was Miss 
Maria Probasco, who became the wife of Prof. Tustin, of 
Bucknell University, Pennsylvania. The building was a low 
structure, destroyed by fire about twenty-five years ago. A 
larger school house has been erected on the old site. 

From the sunrise or east windows of this shop room we 
had a fine view of the pine-clad summit of Mount Gibbon or 
Pine Mount, the name known at the present time. This hill is 
the highest elevation in Greenwich township ; it contained so 
many attractive features, which often lured us thitherward not 



8 REMINISCENCES 

only for its beautiful flora that nature had spread with a lavish 
hand on hillside, by roadside and all through the woodland, 
but there was the delightful climb through the shrubbery and 
trees to the summit, where were scattered light beds of velvety 
moss, in which the young people of Greenwich carved their 
initials, then filled the letters with fairest white pebbles that 
could be gathered in abundance on the hilltop. 

The changing seasons were ever developing new at- 
tractions. The blueberry grew on the hillside. The teaberry 
at the foot of the hill near the stream, and the wild grape in 
the thicket. At the fruitage time the oak tree began to fling 
beautiful shapely acorns o'er the hilltop, and the chestnut tree 
opened its prickly burr and dropped the toothsome nuts for 
the gatherer. The frosts of Autumn changed the foliage of 
many of the trees to hues of beauty, and the hill was gorgeous 
with bright colors. In the winter months there were still at- 
tractions to the hillside, for nature had hung her lichens on 
every broken bough along the roadside that wound around the 
hill, and grown her light-green airy mosses in soft touches of 
beauty everywhere, and the berry of the holly tree had 
changed its color to the scarlet of the redbird that trilled 
his song in the leafless branches of the tall trees just above it. 
When the note of the summer bird is silent, having migrated 
to a southern clime, the cardinal bird is seen through the 
winter months in the woodland and along the stream. A part 
of his song is a perfect musical trill ; when he sang the loudest 
in the treetops, some of the weather wise said his singing was 



OF GREENWICH 9 

a harbinger of a great storm ; they were trapped by some of 
the residents who lived along the stream and readily sold, 
because of their gay plumage. The evergreen pine, cedar 
and laurel seemed to take on a brighter, deeper green in the 
cold weather, and by searching in hidden places we found the 
trailing ground pine had curled its pretty wreath beneath our 
feet. 

By brushing away the sere leaf on the hillside we found 
a sure prophecy of spring, for there was the Arbutus plant, 
and the life that maketh all things new had been silently form- 
ing a cluster of buds in the centre of the plant, waiting for 
the spring sun to develop its waxen cup in roseate beauty. 
The view from the summit of the hill through the leafless 
trees was extensive; the varied scenery of rolling farms, 
bordered on the south and west by the Cohansey and Delaware 
rivers. We often saw the stately shipping of the Delaware 
if atmospheric conditions were favorable. This river the In- 
dians honored with the name Lennape-Whittuk, or the 
stream of the Lennape. The Lenni Lennapes, or first people 
as they named themselves, were later known as the Delawares. 
They were said to be most influential and peaceable tribes. 
The Indians through New England and Middle States were 
originally from the great tribe of Algonquins which were 
first known in Canada. 

The Dutch called the Delaware river the South or 
Zuydt river. While the Swedish star was in ascendency it 
was known as the Swedeland stream. The Swedes under 



10 REMINISCENCES 

Menewe in 1638 built the fort and town of Christiana, near 
where Wilmington now stands and laid the foundation of the 
empire of New Sweden. The bay the Indians called Poutaxit, 
the Dutch Zuydt Bay, and the English Delaware. When we 
looked above us from the hilltop there was the boundless 
canopy of blue with the white clouds drifting over. 

"Beauty chased we everywhere 
On hill by stream in clouds of air." 

Emerson speaking of the goddess of beauty says: 
"All that's great and good with thee 

Works in close conspiracy. 
Thou canst not wave thy staff in air, 

Or dip thy paddle in the lake, 
But it carves the bow of beauty there. 

And the ripple in rhymes the oar forsake." 



CHAPTER II. 

There were two ways of going to the hill from the shop. 
One was by the public highway until we were nearly opposite, 
then enter a road that led directly to it. The other was across 
the fields and the old mill stream; then linger a while at the 
crossing to watch sparkle and gleam of the water, and listen 
to the ripplings and low murmurings in its flowing and onward 
course; many lessons of life we learned from this flowing 
stream; it was simply obeying a law of the universe, and its 
destiny was the great throbbing sea, which is ever drawing its 
water from the hillside springs; by its ceasless activity day 
and night it was unconsciously saying to us, Oh ! how I love 
thy law; by obeying the law was scattering blessings every- 
where. If frozen over in the coldest weather, it was a thin 
crust easily broken, and clear flowing water was beneath for 
man, beast and bird, when all other water supplies were con- 
gealed beyond using. In its constant flow it irrigated and 
freshened its borders and meadows so they were covered with 
living verdure from early Spring until Autumn's frosts. 
Shrubbery and gay flowers of many varieties beautified its 



12 REMINISCENCES 

banks, from the small modest Quaker lady or violet to the 
flaming spiked Cardinal flower. In low places near the cross- 
ing where the overflowing water made small pools the 
"Nymphea odorata" or pond lily grew and floated its round 
leaf and budded; and when the rays of the June sun fell 
directly upon the plant, the bud opened the double white star 
lily, which is noted and loved for its rare beauty and frag- 
rance. 

At the crossing of this stream we could see Grand- 
mother Keen's house near the bridge, whom we often visited. 
She gave us children star, diamond and cross-shaped cookies ; 
and when our mother informed us she had voted for the 
president of the United States when a young woman, our ad- 
miration of her was very great, for she was the only woman 
that we ever knew that had voted for the chief magistrate. 
We had heard of others; our mother told us the women of 
New Jersey voted in the early days of the state, she said her 
mother had voted, and told us how very proud her grand- 
father was of his daughters when election day came, for they 
went with him to the polls and cast their vote. His name was 
James Sheppard. He was a large land owner and farmer in 
Hopewell. He was a deacon in the Cohansey Church. He was 
born December 25, 1752. He died June 3, 1825, and was buried 
at Roadstown. He was the son of Ephraim and Sarah Dennis 
Sheppard, who were buried at the old Cohansey burying 
ground near Sheppard's Mills. James Sheppard lived in his 
father's homestead for many years. (The property was 



OF GREENWICH 13 

recently owned by the late Robert Ware.) He had two sons 
and seven daughters, most of them lived to maturity. The 
names of the girls were Hannah, Rachel, Prudence, Mary, 
Rebecca, Phoebe and Hope. Hannah married Daniel Moore 
Rachel married James Sayre, who was wounded at the mas- 
sacre at Hancock's bridge in 1778. Phoebe married Wade 
Barker. Hope married Reul Sayre and moved to Ohio. 
Rebecca married Enos Reed. Prudence was our grandmother 
and Mary our step grandmother; these women voters of the 
past have left many descendants. After learning the history 
of the past we wondered why intelligent women couldn't vote 
at the present time and why or who changed the laws. There 
is a town in West Jersey where a number of the business 
blocks and many of the homes are owned by women, and they 
can never lift a voice or vote regarding municipal affairs, and 
any man who has been registered a certain time, no matter of 
what nationality or how illiterate or unqualified, and without 
property can use the franchise, just the same principle that 
caused the revolt from the mother country. Isn't it taxation 
without representation. 

In an old communication of an aged gentleman to a 
friend, he informs him that in 1804 he voted in Hunterdon 
County for Thomas Jefferson for President, and at the elec- 
tion negro men and women, as well as white men and women, 
over twenty-one years of age, voted. He was of the opinion 
that the law was in operation until the year 1817. 

At the adoption of the Constitution in 1776, Section 4, 

•-Rucliel's auut Racliel. 



14 REMINISCENCES 

the law reads: 

"That all inhabitants of this colony of full age, who are 
worth fifty pounds, proclamation money, clear estate in the 
same, and have resided within the county in which they claim 
a vote for twelve months immediately preceding the election, 
shall be entitled to vote for representatives in council and as- 
sembly; and also for all other public officers that shall be 
elected by the people of the county at large." 



CHAPTER III. 

Very near Grandmother Keen's house, along the wayside, 
stood Mary Bowen's home and candy store. Her jars of 
mint sticks and sour balls looked very tempting to children, 
and our pennies were often exchanged for them. This build- 
ing was a low two-story structure; the entrance from the 
street. Miss Bowen was a faithful member of the old church, 
which was only a few steps from her home, where her an- 
cestors worshipped; and down to old age, on the Sabbath 
morning, she was seen in her accustomed pew, with bowed 
head, receiving the message that was proclaimed from its 
sacred desk. Just across the stream nearly surrounded by 
beautiful weeping willow trees, with trunks two or three feet 
in diameter, stood our Uncle's thriving industry, another cen- 
ter of much activity sixty years ago. Young men were ap- 
prenticed here and became skilled machinists and blacksmiths ; 
if they served their full time they then went out into the 
great world with the assurance of a good future living, and 
sometimes a fortune, if they put their acquired knowledge 
to practical use. A part of this shop is still standing, but 



16 REMINISCENCES 

the old house has vanished from the scene and another stands 
on the same site. The stone part of the house was thought 
to have been built contemporary with the grist mill, which 
stood very near it in the days of the colonies; the stream 
being the mill's motive power. This old home was ideal 
for room convenience and comfort, being two distinct two- 
story houses joined together; a few steps on the first floor 
leading to the highest house and a winding staircase leading 
to the second stories. The higher part was nearer the road- 
side and the entrance was by an old-time porch, with wide 
spreading arms and seats, which were always inviting to the 
weary. In the rear of the stone part was the old-time kitchen, 
with its oven and brick floor. When this building was taken 
down its century-old timbers, bolts, nails and hinges were 
considered very curious compared with modern inventions. 
These houses and nearly all of the occupants, like the huge 
weeping willows that partly overshadowed them, have passed 
into oblivion, and only live in our memories. The weeping 
willow was brought to this country by the English to beautify 
the Colonies. Between the stream and the hill was the 
Indian field; whenever we crossed it, if we cared to look 
for them, we could find arrow points, broken pottery, and 
sometimes stone implements ; if we crossed after the plow- 
share had turned the furrow a new lot of them would be 
revealed to our searching eyes. Some of the arrow points 
were in a perfect condition and many were broken. They 
were mostly of quartz ; some of them translucent, others of 



OF GREENWICH 17 

black, red and brown jasper; and some were made of marl 
rock found in that locality. 

It is very evident that only a few centuries ago, by the 
fragments of pottery, that some of the wigwams of the tribe 
of the Siconesses were located in that field, and at dewy morn, 
noontide glare and dusky eve they dipped their wooden and 
pottery utensils in the stream and drank of its living water. 
The fragments of pottery that have been found in this field 
plainly show their crude attempts in decorative art, some 
of the decorations have evidently been done with a sharp 
stick, making longer and shorter marks in the soft clay ; other 
fragments have dots made in uniformity, while some bear 
the impression of a corncob. 

"The wigwams in West Jersey were mostly roofed with 
chestnut bark, and sewed together with string slit from maize 
stalks. They were close and warm, and no rain could pene- 
trate them. The mats enclosing the sides were made of corn 
leaves. Stretched on the ground upon strewn leaves they 
ate their food, and slept upon the earth in the same man- 
ner." Once a year, at the gathering of the maize crop, they 
held semi-religious and semi-social festivals, to which all were 
free to attend who could pay a small sum of wampum. The 
value of wampum was regulated by its color. In New 
Swede 1 a white bead was worth the sixth of a stiver, which 
was a Dutch coin worth two cents; a red one a third of a 
stiver, and u brown one still more. In wholesale transactions 
a fathom of wampum passed current for five Dutch guilders. 



18 REMINISCENCES 

A guilder was the monetary unit of Holland and worth about 
forty cents. Their mode of testing the standard of wampum 
was to rub the beads upon their noses, if perfectly smooth 
they were considered good. It was their custom to carry a 
string of wampum about their necks. 

We quote from William Penn, who attended one of their 
festivals, where they served up twenty bucks with hot cakes 
compounded of new corn and wheat and beans. After eat- 
ing, on such occasions, it was their custom to engage in danc- 
ing. 

It has been said that the gospel of Judea and the gospel 
of the true Quaker is the same. William Penn, who believed 
in human brotherhood, which means the commonwealth of 
man, and brings peace to all lands, said to the sachems of the 
Delawares and all Indians: "We are brothers." And in mak- 
ing treaties and all other transactions he had with them was 
done in kindness and justice. 

In mingling with them he observed their customs closely. 
He says on public occasion, "The King sits in the middle 
of the half moon and hath his council, the old men and wise 
on each hand, and behind them, at a little distance, sits the 
younger fry in the same figure. If the business on hand was 
making a treaty, each orator stood up before the opposite 
King and closed every period with a present of wampum, to 
be retained as a perpetual memorial of his stipulations. After 
the terms were settled upon the whole treaty was confirmed 
by passing around the calumet, which each one present took 



OF GREENWICH 19 

a whiff out of." Their religion, they believed in Horitt 
Manitto, to whom they ascribed all perfection, but took no 
concern in the common affairs of this world, nor does he 
meddle with the same, but has ordered the devil to take care 
of such matters. The Devil, or Manunckus Manitto, the 
deprecation of whose wrath was the main object of their 
worship; they began to believe in later days were made 
only for the white people, of which doctrine they highly ap- 
proved. This evil spirit, according to their belief, inflicted 
all the harm in which he was capable in life. "To safer 
worlds in depths of woods embraced they hoped all Indians 
were suffered after death to go, while the wicked portion 
was kept at a distance and only allowed to look upon the 
pleasures the others enjoyed." It is said the West Jersey 
tribes endeavored to conceal their devil adoration as much 
as possible from the white people; but Penn says their wor- 
ship consisted of two parts : sacrifice and canticle. Their 
sacrifice is the first fruits ; the first and fattest buck they kill 
goes to the fire, where he is burned up with a mournful ditty 
of him who performs the ceremony, with marvelous 
fervency and labor of body, sweating to a foam. They broke 
no bones of the animals they ate, but gathered them up and 
buried them in a heap ; and in the past have been frequently 
plowed up. The cantico was performed by round dances, 
sometimes words, sometimes songs, and sometimes shouts ; two 
being in the middle that began the performance by singing and 
drumming on a board, directing the chorus. These postures 



20 REMINISCENCES 

in the dance were very antic, but with great appearance 
of joy and gladness. "They scorned at the forms of Chris- 
tian worship and laughed at the idea of heaven, where men 
were neither to eat or drink, but politeness restrained them 
from insulting the missionaries who told them of miracles. 
Yet Engineer Lindstrom has recorded a legend prevalent 
among the Delawares which seems to prove conclusively that 
they had heard of the Messiah long before the Columbian 
discovery, which has led some to believe they were the lost 
tribes of Israel." 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Lenni Lennapes, or Delawares, were divided into 
tribes; each tribe held a tract of land between the creeks 
or tributaries of the Delaware ; and it is said they had as per- 
fect a title, as to their very duffles they wore; each tribe 
having a ruling king. Robert Evelyn, one of the early ex- 
plorers on the east bank of the river, informs us that the 
king of the Siconesses dwelt along the Cohansey. The most 
ancient historian who has written anything definite regarding 
the east bank of the Delaware is John DeLaet, a native of 
Antwerp, but a resident of Leyden. He was a very learned 
man, and said to be more accurate than any of his successors 
who undertook to enumerate the Indian tribes of West Jersey. 
He read and studied all the manuscript journals of the early 
exporers, Hendrick Hudson, Adrien Block and Captain May 
(whose name ever lives in Cape May), and was intimately 
acquainted with Captain DeVries. He was an enthusiastic 
student in the new fields of science the discovery of America 
had opened to the savants of Europe. He wrote a book en- 
titled "The New World." It was first published in Dutch 



22 REMINISCENCES 

from the famous press Elezevirs, in Leyden, in the year 1625, 
and it contained very accurate information concerning the 
South or Delaware River. In 1633, soon after the visit of 
Captain DeVries to Holland, a new edition was published at 
the same press in Latin, which contained much new matter 
collected by subsequent traders to Fort Nassau, with a map 
entitled "Novia Anglia Novum Belgium et Virginia," which 
translated reads, "New England, New Belgium and Virginia." 
This chart is said to be the first of the Delaware now extant. 
The eleventh and twelfth chapters of the third book contain 
a description of the Indian tribes from Cape May to the Falls 
of Trenton. DeLaet died in 1649, having enjoyed the pleasure 
of seeing his "New World" acquire a high reputation among 
readers of three languages. From DeLaet we learn along 
the Maurice River the Sewaposes dwelt. Just above the 
outlet of the Delaware, on the right, about Cohansey, lived 
the Siconesses ; the Naraticons upon the Raccoon ; the Man- 
teses on Mantua Creek ; the Armenesmes on Timber Creek. 
Farther up the river he mentions the Maerokongs, the Ama- 
rongs, Rancocas, Mingnosees, Atzions, Matikongees, and 
Sanhigans. All of these resided between Timber Creek and 
the Falls of Trenton, in the order the careful DeLaet has 
named them. The translation of the part relating to the New 
Netherlands has been published in the first volume of the 
new series of the New York "Historical Collections." 

Master Robert Evelyn for several years resided along the 
Delaware, and he mentions the same clans and their number 



OF GREENWICH 23 

of warriors. 

On the 23d of September, 1633, Capt. Thomas Young, 
gentleman, received a special commission from the King of 
England to organke an expedition to explore in America. 
This expedition sailed in the spring of 1634, and with it came 
Master Robert Evelyn, Captain Young's nephew, as lieutenant. 
In 1641, in England, which was the fifth decade of the seven- 
teenth century, Evelyn published a card describing the valley 
of the Delaware as a fine place, where he had been stationed 
for four years, trading and exploring in safety. He says, 
"I do account all the Indians to be 800 on the eastern bank 
of the Delaware." He mentions the Keckemeches, a tribe in 
Cape May who mustered fifty bowmen. He says, "Twelve 
leagues higher, a little above the bay and bar, is the river 
Manteses, which has twenty miles on Charles River, and 
thirty miles running up a deep fair navigable river, all a 
flat level of rich black marsh mold, which I think to be 300,- 
000 acres. The king of Manteses had a hundred bowmen. 
Next above, six leagues higher, is a fair deep river twelve 
miles navigable, where is free stone; and there over against 
is the king of the Siconesses. On the Pensaukin lived Erin- 
oneck, the king of forty men. Five miles above, on the 
stream still bearing the name of its first master, dwelt the 
King of Rancock, with a hundred men, and four miles higher, 
about the site of Burlington, was the king of Axiom, with 
two hundred men. The last tribe were more numerous than 
any others, and extended from Assimunk to Mulica River; 



24 REMINISCENCES 

one of the branches still retains the name of Atzion." 

We are greatly indebted to the Indians for the euphonious 
names they have given to mountains, rivers, and many places 
in this fair land of ours. These names all had a meaning 
to them. Something in or about the locality suggested the 
name — very much as the plantation melodies in the cotton 
fields of the Southland were never composed but sprang up 
among them — the musician copying the note from the melody 
by ear. The Cohansey River still bears the Indian name, 
which borders a portion of Greenwich township. A stream 
having its rise on what is known as the Tomlinson farm, 
near Roadstown, flowing through Greenwich township into 
Newport Creek, which empties into Stow Creek River, bears 
the melodious Indian name of Mackanippa. 

The sweet word anna was mother in the Indian dialect. 
Matta meaning no; hatta, to have; matta ne hatta meaning 
I have not. 

The oft persecuted and imprisoned William Penn, in 
England, whose name in America is immortal, and whose au- 
thenticity no one doubts regarding the Indians, for he came 
not to America with clanging arms as a conquering hero; 
avarice, ambition or conquest were not his motives; but ex- 
presses his desire in his charter when he says, "To reduce 
the savage nations by just and gentle manners, to the love 
of civil societies and the Christian religion." So he came 
panoplied with the armor of God, having on the breastplate 
of righteousness, and his feet shod with the gospel of peace. 



OF GREENWICH 25 

He knew no fear, for his creed was love, and the Indians 
loved him in return, never once breaking their covenant with 
the great Father Onas, and they perpetuated his memory by 
giving the name of Onas to the succeeding governors of his 
province. 

To-day Penn's statue crowns the apex of the Public 
Buildings of his Philadelphia in a standing posture of such 
high altitude as if overlooking the city, New Jersey and the 
province of Pennsylvania, in which he made that wonderful 
treaty with the Indians which has no parallel in our country. 
It is still happily preserved and can be seen in the Historical 
Society of Philadelphia: 

"He tells us the language of the Lenni Lennapies was 
lofty and sententious, one word serving for three spoken in 
English, and that no tongue in Europe could surpass it in 
melody and grandeur of accent and emphasis." 

"Can the memory of the redman 

Forever pass away, 
When his names of beauty linger 

On mount and stream and bay." 



CHAPTER V. 

We children could easily step out of the sunrise windows 
of this shop room onto the roof of the lathe. This roof was 
a charming place in summer to retire and rest and watch 
the birds as they flitted from tree to tree in the apple orchard, 
and listen to their joyous songs. If we could go there at 
sunrise we heard the grand anthem of the morning — it has 
been called — when all the songsters seem to unite in one grand 
chorus of praise as the glorious sun appears in the eastern 
sky. This quiet, restful place was sometimes used by the 
workmen to retire and partake of their noontide lunch. 

Beneath this roof was a round beaten path that Prince 
horse had worn in turning the machinery of the lathe, which 
was connected to our father's bench, where he did his turn- 
ing. The lathe machinery was also connected with the tum- 
bler house. This huge tumbler was made with iron heads 
and heavy wooden staves : it was filled with iron castings ; 
its revolutions causing attrition, which cleaned the castings. 
The warbling wren and the Phebe or Peewee birds selected 
the rafters and eaves of the lathe for their spring housekeep- 
ing, and their songs were continuous in nesting time. 



OF GREENWICH 2^ 

Beyond the lathe was the iron foundry, a long, low build- 
ing, where you would find a skilled workman preparing his 
flasks for the weekly casting. In the south end of the build- 
ing was the furnace, where metals were melted for casting. 
The energy for blasting this furnace was two horsepower. 
It was not known to man at this period that electricity could 
be captured and harnessed and made to be a motive power. 
This iron foundry was built long before there was any in 
Bridgeton, and the castings were used in the early glass fac- 
tories there, and many of them were taken to the state of 
Delaware. 

When the weekly molding took place the roar of the 
furnace could be heard at a distance, and the chil- 
dren, and sometimes the adults of the vicinity, came to 
witness the hot molten metal poured in the flasks. Just out- 
side of the door were quantities of old iron to be transformed 
into the new castings by the melting process. In the midst 
of this accumulated debris of stoves, kettles and iron utensils 
stood the horsepower. Between the apple orchard and wheel- 
wright shop stood huge piles of lumber. A solitary rosebush 
stood near one of the shop windows and every springtime 
blossomed in fragrance and beauty, and were the first roses 
that graced the school teacher's desk from our home. 

In front of the shop were two Alianthus trees, with 
large trunks and wide spreading boughs that made delightful 
shade in the hot summer days. The lawn in front was usually 
covered with horsepowers, threshing machines, clover-hnllers, 



28 REMINISCENCES 

wagons, and other wooden things waiting for repairs. The 
wheelwright shop was a very busy place. The woodwork 
to carriages, wagons, plows, harrows, threshing machines, 
clover-hullers, corn-shellers, and wheelbarrows were all made 
there. 

When an apprentice had served his full time he was 
fully trained to make and put together the whole wagon or 
machine — not certain parts, as is made in manufactories at 
the present period — dovetailing was a specialty. We chil- 
dren, with our playmates, loved to gather in this shop, and 
often listened to the merry jokes of the workmen, above the 
noise of the hammer, saw or plane, as they labored, trans- 
forming the heavy plank into the desired wheel, axle or 
other article. The village lounger was usually there imparting 
the latest news. The farmer was often there waiting for 
repairs to be made on his wagon, plow or machine ; sometimes 
coming long distances and dining at our home. One man 
that daily lounged about the shop frequently borrowed money 
from some of the workmen. He was very slow in paying his 
debts, making many promises. One day he told his debtor 
he would remit the next day, if he was living. He manifested 
much surprise, after a prolonged absence, to find a notice of 
his sudden demise tacked high in the building, where all could 
read it as they entered. It was said it cured him of his 
delinquency. 

Another man that frequented the shops had a custom, in 
his money dealings, to be about three cents short with change. 



OF GREENWICH 29 

hoping thereby not to pay the full price. Having played his 
trick on one of the workmen, he was greeted by this saluta- 
tion : "Here comes the man that owes me a three-cent piece." 
He finally paid the money in order to enter the shop without 
hearing this aggravating reminder of his sin of omission. 
Another man of the village had the habit of going to the 
shop to relate his many maladies. When the workmen saw 
him approaching they would greet him with : "What is the 

trouble to-day, Mr. S ?" His reply would usually be, 

"Headache to-day." And so the merry laughter and jokes 
went on while these men of muscle labored continuously at 
their benches. 

A very tall man, with a dusky skin and long-braided hair, 
occasionally came to the building. He was so very tall and 
straight we children would scamper when we first saw him, 
but when we learned his grandmother was a remnant of the 
Indian tribe in that locality we looked upon him with much 
interest. He braided round shapely baskets and made corn- 
husk mats and brought them there to sell 

There were aged colored men that almost daily came from 
their homes to the shop. They were runaway slaves from 
the state of Delaware. Two of them are indelibily fixed in 
our memories. A major part of their existence in their lat- 
ter days was due to our father's aid and benefactions. The 
names they were known by were "Old Blake" and "Blind 
Jacob Jackson." The latter, being almost sightless, was able 
to husk corn on the farm by being directed by my younger 



30 REMINISCENCES 

adopted brother. He would use his cane in finding the shocks 
in the same manner that he traveled the highways, by clear- 
ing obstacles before him. He husked the corn to obtain a 
few bushels for making hominy, in which he was an adept, 
notwithstanding his blindness. He also made skewers from 
small pieces of wood he gathered at the woodpile, which he 
sold for a few pennies to the butcher. Old Blake did not 
know his exact age, but knew he was very old. His prin- 
cipal business was gathering old iron and bringing it to the 
shop to exchange for a few pennies, and when the monthly 
grist came from the mill he was usually there begging for 
the shorts, which were given him. He was not a prognosti- 
cator of the weather, but had been a close observer of the 
storms for many years, as they came in the springtime. He 
often told us children what birds we would see in the clear 
shining after the rain that had migrated from a southern 
clime ; and we would find it invariably so. He called the 
storm by the name of the bird. Some of the storms were 
for the setting of berries, as strawberry or blackberry storms. 
Each storm had a special meaning for him regardless of the 
general good. If we made inquiries of these old men re- 
garding their escape from slavery they would answer in a 
whisper for fear some one was near that would reveal their 
whereabouts to the spies or slave-catchers that were on the 
alert, recapturing the able-bodied persons that had escaped to 
the Jersey shore. 

For many years before the Civil War there was known 



OF GREENWICH 31 

to be what was called an underground railway system. It 
was a hidden way of travel, sustained by the opponents of 
slavery, for the fugitive to escape from bondage in the South 
to freedom in the North. 

The British Parliament enacted a law in 1833 which pro- 
vided for the abolition of slavery in all British colonies. It 
was known to the slave if he could reach the Canadian border 
he would be free from the shackles that bound him in the 
Southland ; and that food, clothing and shelter would be given 
him by his abolition friends on the route. 

There were several routes of this system through New 
Jersey in which they were conveyed to Jersey City and on to 
Canada. One of these routes began at Greenwich. The 
fugitive came by boat from Dover and other points from the 
Delaware shore; boats with colored lights — said to be yellow 
and blue — were manned with watchers, and the slaves ex- 
changed to Greenwich boats and conveyed to the village; they 
were then forwarded to Swedesboro and Mt. Holly ; thence 
to Burlington, and on to Jersey City. 

Some of them were hidden for days in the colored set- 
tlement at bpringtown, while some remained for life. Some 
of the active workers engaged on the Greenwich line have their 
names recorded in history. J. R. Sheppard, Thomas B. 
Sheppard, Levin Bond, Ezekiel Cooper, Nathaniel Murray, 
Algea and Julia Stanford. Algea's and Julia's home could 
be seen from the shop windows, and often have we seen the 
aged couple in their declining years, in the cool of the 



32 REMINISCENCES 

summer evening, enjoying the liberty they had earnestly 
endeavored to give to their brothers and sisters in bondage. 
Algea was a man of splendid physique, and was a busy 
worker in the old tannery, which was another valued industry 
near the head of Greenwich. Its location was on the main street, 
near the home now owned by Joseph Opdyke. The tannery was 
the property of John and Evan Miller. The Stanfords were 
prominent colored people in Greenwich. The traveler of 
to-day can see a portion of the frame work and ruins of their 
habitation, where they lived and were actively engaged in 
their day and generation. They are remembered by some of 
the inhabitants. There was a strong anti-slavery spirit in 
Greenwich before the Civil War, especially among the Society 
of Friends, who were numerous among the citizens before the 
war. John Woolman, the Quaker preacher of Mount Holly, 
had long been denouncing the moral wrong of "Man's inhu- 
manity to man" by traffic in man. He preached the brother- 
hood of man, regardless of his creed, his color, his race or 
tongue, and we must undo the heavy burdens and let the 
oppressed go free, and that you break every yoke. He was 
sustained by the societies of Friends in South and West 
Jersey. He traveled throughout the Colonies and preached, 
supporting himself by tailoring. He spoke and wrote much 
against slavery, and it is said that all slaves were practi- 
cally abolished among the Quakers in New Jersey as early 
as 1738. In the early records of deeds we find Indians, as 
well as negroes, were slaves in the State. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Another route of this underground railroad or hidden 
system started from Salem, N. J. This route was known 
by the slaves along the Chesapeake, they came to the Dela- 
ware River and thence to Salem. It was a favorite harbor 
for runaways, as they found many sympathizers there. 
There were very few slaves in Salem County, and 
a greater negro population in proportion to the number of 
inhabitants than other counties. It is said that when the 
slave catchers came to Salem to recapture their slaves, they 
were glad to escape with their lives. The principal workers 
who received the refugees were Elizabeth and Abigail Good- 
win, Quakeresses. Abigail's sympathy was so very great 
for them she made many personal sacrifices in order to give 
them food and clothing. She was greatly aided by the Qua- 
kers in that section ; sometimes much clothing was needed, 
for when they seized the opportunity to escape they some- 
times came with very little clothing, and often barefoot. 
If they wore the cheap, yellow split leather shoe, which was 
provided for the slaves in the South, they were changed be- 



34 REMINISCENCES 

iore they could be forwarded by stage or boat, and often ten 
or twelve came at a time. Miss Abigail Goodwin died November 
2, 1867, aged 73 years. It was much harder for the slave to es- 
cape from bondage after the passage of the fugitive slave law 
in 1850. This law aided the slave hunter in so many ways 
that greater caution had to be taken by those that harbored 
them. The law provided fine and imprisonment to those 
who in any way prevented recapture, and bands were 
formed to watch and catch them by shiftless men, seeking 
reward. Mr. Alanson Work, originally from Hartford, 
Conn., with two assistants, liberated between 3,000 and 4,000 
slaves in the West by the underground railway system, 
and afterward suffered long years of imprisonment in Mis- 
souri. His life and work fired the genius in' his son's soul, 
Henry C. Work (who lived in Vineland, N. J., in the town's 
early history), to write those soul-stirring Civil War songs, 
which became so popular and thrilled the hearts of the 
American people. Every whistling boy caught the refrain 
of "Marching Through Georgia," and America's bands have 
never ceased to play the inspiring melody at patriotic gath- 
erings. The words and music of 100 popular war songs 
were written and composed by Mr. Work. The spirit of 
sympathy for the enslaved race increased and broadened 
in its tidal flow until a quarter of a million of America's 
sons were sacrificed before this mark of infamy was eradi- 
cated from liberty's soil. When the cry of the oppressed 
was rending the hearts of the Northern people and the 



OF GREENWICH 35 

Southern States were seceding from the Union, then came 
the call "To arms." Again did the sons of Greenwich 
leave the shop and mill, the spade and plow, and shoulder 
the musket for liberty's sake. They had seen the refugee 
hiding in the township. They had heard his woeful tale, 
and realized his awful dread of recapture, preferring death 
rather than return to slavery. They had seen the slave pur- 
suer as he walked the great street, presuming to own his 
brother man, hunting for his hiding place in Greenwich 
Township. A deep sympathy overshadowed the town for 
the race in bondage, and the young men were ready to 
right the wrongs that were threatening to sever the union 
of States. The writer well remembers seeing the militia 
form and drill in the Presbyterian churchyard at the head 
of Greenwich under the command of Captain Josiah Ew- 
ing. When the martial strains of the fife and the beat of 
the drum were heard in the village we children would 
hasten to the corner store to see the soldiers preparing 
for war. A few steps from where the drilling took place, 
back of the historic church, rest the remains of some of 
those very soldiers. Then, across the street, in the old 
cemetery, rest more of the departed Civil War heroes, 
along with some of the tea burners and Revolutionary 
soldiers. 

When the nation's Memorial Day is observed, in May, 
the Revolutionary and Civil War heroes are designated 
by the little tri-colored flag, and comrades scatter gar- 



36 REMINISCENCES 

lands over the green hillocks of the known graves. They 
find the surgeon, officer and private in both wars in these 
grounds. 

"Cover them over, yes ! cover them over ; 

Parent and husband, brother and lover — 

Crown in your hearts those dead heroes of ours — 

Cover them over with beautiful flowers." 
"Ages to come will remember each grave ; 

Cost of our nation, so dear yet so free." 



CHAPTER VII. 

There were two colored women who were slaves who 
came under the writer's personal knowledge. One of them, 
Maria Clark by name, escaped from slavery, came to Green- 
wich, and lived a number of years in a log cabin in Bacon's 
Neck, but ever lived in perpetual fear of recapture. Elisa- 
beth Winrow made a successful escape from the South, 
but was recaptured on one of the Delaware River steam- 
ers by her master. Elisabeth was a young woman, of fine 
physique, and when found missing was speedily pursued. 
But when the songs of the emancipated echoed and re- 
echoed over hill and plain of America's greatest republic, 
the shackles that bound Elisabeth burst asunder and she 
realized the freedom that had been "long, long, long on 
the way," and she sang in her heart : 

"No more auction block for me ; 
No more! no more! 
No more driver's lash for me ; 
Many a thousand gone." 



38 REMINISCENCES 

She came to Greenwich and lived and died in that 
vicinity ; and the writer, with a friend, heard her relate the 
woeful tale of her recapture at one of the Greenwich W. 
C. T. U. meetings, at the home of Mrs. Beulah Ewing. 
Our tears mingled with Elisabeth's as we listened to the 
immoral and brutal treatment she received by her master 
and overseer after her recapture. 

The old shop, after the outbreak of the Civil War, 
was one of the headquarters in Greenwich for war news. 
In those exciting times, wherever there was a gathering of 
men, it was the theme for discussion, sometimes proving 
to be very animated, almost reaching the war spirit, as 
some of the sympathizers with the South, or "Copper- 
heads," as they were called, were usually there. Some of 
the aged colored men who had escaped from the lash of 
the overseer in past years to the Jersey shore were 
living in the twilight of their lives and beginning to see 
the dawn of freedom's morning for their race in the South- 
land. They would gladly have given their lives in the 
service. They would almost daily go to the shop to learn 
the progress of the war from Mr. Ayars, he being an old 
abolitionist, as he was called in the neighborhood. He was 
ever ready to communicate to them the latest intelligence 
from his daily papers, which were delivered him by the 
Greenwich stage. Some of these aged men may be re- 
membered by some of the inhabitants: — John Thomas, 
Charles Bryant, Sr., and Charles Washington, Sr. Algea 



OF GREENWICH 39 

Stanford's tall, manly presence was often there, whose 
strong arm bent to the oar in bringing the refugee across 
the waters of the bay in the darkness of the night. The 
writer at that time was a very small girl, but well remem- 
bers breaking up many of the war discussions by announc- 
ing at the shop door the dinner or supper hour. 

Three of the workmen that had attained their majority 
answered their country's call by enlisting in the war. One 
of them wounded on the battlefield, then later dying 
with camp fever, found a Southern grave. Two of them 
returned when the cruel war was over. One of them still 
lives and gathers yearly with his comrades at the reunion 
of war veterans. He enlisted as a soldier in the ranks of 
the Christian army, under the banner of the Cross, when 
a very young man, having the assurance in his heart when 
returning from the war — as he was heard to remark — that 
he tried to perform every duty, whether it was firing every 
round on the battlefield, or whatsoever service he engaged 
in. The bullets, like the temptations, passed him by, and 
war left no stain on his personality or character. To-day 
his lowly walk among his fellowmen is as the path of the 
just which shineth more and more unto the perfect day.* 
He is the only one living who had reached manhood and 
was a busy worker in the shop at the outbreak of the Civil 
War. In the changing years that have marked the advanc- 
ing steps of time in its onward march, shop and foundry, 
shed and lathe, lumber and debris, have all been removed 
*James Harding, Company F, Twenty-fourth Regiment. 



40 REMINISCENCES 

from the landscape, and not a shadow of a ruin can be 
seen along the highway where, fifty years ago, and many 
years previous, was that center of activity which sup- 
plied the need of farmer and villager in and about historic 
Greenwich. Proprietor and nearly all of the employed have 
passed out of earthly life, and only a few relics of a ma- 
chine, wagon or plow are in existence; for the busy brain 
of man is ever inventing new and better machinery for the 
present need. The old passes away or is preserved as an- 
tiques. In the centuries to come there may be found frag- 
ments of iron in the soil, but not anything of definite 
shape like the arrowpoint, or spearhead, where a few may 
still be gathered, which reveals to us the existence of the 
tribe of the Siconesses, that owned the same ground. Their 
crude implements were made of material that has endured 
the cycles of centuries, while the works of civilized man 
perish with the using. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The old church in Greenwich that celebrated its bi- 
centennial in 1907, has waxed and waned in its influence 
upon the community like the phases of the moon ; some- 
times so prosperous that its light was like the full moon, 
drawing many to its pews to listen to the message from 
the ruling shepherd. In the writer's remembrance the 
church was most prosperous in the early 70's, under the 
pastorate of Rev. Henry E. Thomas. He was living in 
the South at the time of the Civil War. At the outbreak 
of the war was a sympathizer with the Southern people, 
but soon became one of the strongest of Union men, after- 
wards editing a paper in the interests of the Union. He 
experienced the bitterness and privations that the war 
brought upon the South. On account of his loyalty he was 
compelled to resign his pulpit; sometimes in the darkness 
of the night was obliged to take his family and flee to a 
boat on the river for safety. When battles were raging in 
the town where they resided they were compelled to re- 
treat to the cellar, and dead men lying everywhere in the 



42 REMINISCENCES 

street was the outlook from the home. He was a man 
with a physical infirmity, caused by a fall in infancy ; but 
sometimes served as a picket in the army, his wife taking 
her life in her hands to carry him food while on duty. 
He was called to the Greenwich Presbyterian Church from 
Olney, Indiana, in 1871. At that period many well-to-do 
farmers in the country around attended the church, and 
every Sabbath morning the spacious grounds around the 
building were filled with conveyances, which to the 
stranger in attendance was a novel sight, for they knew 
not whence they came. 

Mr. Thomas was a seer, a man of insight and of fore- 
sight; he looked down the ages to come and saw that 
mystical dogma and man-made creed must forever pass 
away, and the true religion of the future would be "love to 
God and love to man." On these two commandments, said 
the Christ, in teaching the Pharisees, hang all the law and 
the prophets. He saw the dawning of the millennium when 
the world accepted this religion. Love was his creed, the 
"love that suffereth long and is kind." He ever preached 
where love is enthroned, all the other principles of right 
are fulfilled beneath it, influenced and embodied in its 
monitions. Love is the root of creation — God's essence — 
therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law. Mr. Thomas 
was an untiring Sunday school worker. To him the Sun- 
day school was the nursery of the church. The school 
was held before the morning service. Pie was the first to 



OF GREENWICH 43 

go to the church on the early Sabbath morning to aid his 
co-workers there. He instituted a monthly teachers' 
meeting, which was usually held at the hospitable homes 
of the teachers. He held a weekly Bible Class at the 
parsonage for the benefit of the teachers and all others 
interested in Bible study. A Sabbath school anniversary 
was held in the autumn. A program of exercises was pre- 
pared by Mr. Thomas, consisting of selected passages of 
Scripture for each class to read, interspersed with appro- 
priate music by the school. Besides solos and anthems 
by the choir, an address was given by an invited min- 
ister; the church was beautifully decorated by the deft 
fingers of the teachers and scholars. These occasions at- 
tained such a high reputation that, if the day was favor- 
able, they were attended by a large concourse of people; 
all the seating and standing capacity taken, and some- 
times thronged to the doors. During his pastorate the 
missionary society of the church did excellent work. A 
large box of clothing and useful articles were yearly sent 
to a minister out on the frontier, or some charitable insti- 
tution, and the work is continued in the church until the 
present time. The parsonage, during his and his family's 
occupancy, was a typical home of Southern hospitality. Its 
doors were ever open to all the societies of the church 
and to every one who would share in their generosity. 
During his pastorate of eighteen years he was not only 
loved by the majority of his church, but the community 



44 REMINISCENCES 

at large recognized his great efficiency and usefulness. 

He resigned his Greenwich pastorate in 1889 and be- 
came pastor of the Greenway Presbyterian Church, Phila 
delphia, where he labored faithfully for twelve years, until 
failing health caused his resignation. After an illness of 
more than two years, mostly confined to his bed, he "was 
made perfect through suffering," like the "captain of his 
salvation," and entered into rest. Mr. Thomas was bo-r. 
in New York City December 12, 1826, graduated at Han- 
over College, Indiana in 1849; died in Philadelphia Jan;: 
ary, 1905, aged 78 years. 

The hospitality and brotherly love of the old families 
of Greenwich has been a marked characteristic of the 
place. These traits of character are particularly shown on 
extra occasions, such as moving day, the annual hog-kill- 
ing, and the like. 

The twenty-fifth of March is the yearly moving day in 
Greenwich, when a farmer or family change their resi- 
dence in this vicinity, neighbors and friends take their 
teams and kindly assist one another; and at the new home 
a fine dinner is prepared, which is heartily enjoyed and 
makes the moving a social occasion. The early settlers of 
Greenwich considered the twenty-fifth day of March the 
first of the year, and the present inhabitants still cling to 
the old custom regarding moving day. Previous to the 
year 1752 the English held that the first of the year began 
the twenty-fifth of March, while the Scots, the first of Jan- 



OF GREENWICH 45 

uary. This led to a system of double dating existing from 
the first of January to the twenty-fifth of March. 

Near the entrance of the old Presbyterian Cemetery 
at the head of Greenwich, there is a low stone bearing 
this inscription: 

Here 

lyeth the Body 

of JOSEPH MOORE 

who departed this Life 

January the 26th, 1747/8 

aged 46 Years. 

The double dating is in a form of a fraction. If you 
reckon from the new style, he died January 26, 1748, but if 
you reckon from the old style the beginning of the year the 
twenty-fifth of March, he died in the year 1747. 

Farther back in the yard, where it is bordered by the 
stream, is another stone with the double dating: 

In Memory of 

THOMAS EWING 

Who departed this life 

The 28th of February 

Anno Dom; 1747/8 

Aged 52 years 
of MARY his wife 



46 REMINISCENCES 

Who died Decen 17, 1784 

Aged 84 Years 

She was the Daughter of 

THOMAS MASKELL, Esq. 

Who died Jany 2, 1732. 

Among the farmers the annual hog-killing is made a 
social occasion; the friends and neighbors are invited to 
assist in the work. An elaborate dinner is prepared where 
is always served the chicken pot-pie and many tempting 
viands. In the rural districts, all through Salem and Cum- 
berland Counties, there are large gatherings and much prep- 
aration is made. A cousin of the writer, living on a large 
farm, prepared as many as fifty mince pies for the occasion. 
When sickness or sorrow enters the home the milk of 
human kindness is largely manifested among the Green- 
wich people. When the solemn messenger of death enters 
a family and steals away the loved one the neighbors call 
and shed the sympathizing tear, and if lunch has to be pre- 
pared in the home for the relatives that go to the family 
from a distance, the neighbors gladly assist until the funeral 
obsequies are over. These customs have been handed down 
from generation to generation. Greenwich has been said 
to be an obscure town on the banks of the Cohansey. It 
was originally laid out for the county-seat, but many of its 
early settlers were Quakers, who loved their peaceful farms 
and rural scenes so well they would not sell their lands to 



OF GREENWICH 47 

the manufacturer or any industry that would have increased 
its population ; but its early intelligent settlers have born 
sons and daughters who have gone out into the wide, wide 
world and helped people other cities, and children's chil- 
dren are tracing their ancestry to old Greenwich, returning 
to look up their ancestors in the old cemeteries. On 
Greenwich soil has been born some of our country's states- 
men, legislators, ministers, and a long line of physicians, 
some of them whose influence has been world-wide. In- 
ventors, civil engineers, skilled mechanics, and machinists, 
have gone to other towns and cities where their usefulness 
has been great. Many seamen, born in Greenwich, have not 
only commanded their stately ships, through the crooked 
reaches of old Cohansey, but have sailed our country's great 
rivers, and carried freight from the "island of the seas" and 
ports of foreign lands. In the early history the only way of 
traveling was by horseback, or by water, so the young men, 
many of them, learned navigation and became sea captains 
and sailors. 

When the old ferry across the Cohansey, from Green- 
wich, was in use, to convey people and traffic over to New 
England town, the following rates were given to be carried 
over said ferry in 1776. William Franklin was then Gov- 
ernor of the State, and George III was reigning over the 
Colonies. "A single person, two pence ; for a horse and 
chair and their rider, one shilling; a man and a horse, four 
pence ; for a wagon and two horses and their riders, one 



48 REMINISCENCES 

shilling and six pence ; for a loaded wagon and two horses, 
two shillings and six pence; cattle, per head, four pence; 
sheep or swine, per head, one penny. And that if any 
person or persons shall ferry or carry over any persons, 
goods or merchandise for hire at the ferry aforesaid with- 
out leave first had or obtained of the owner or person 
who may rent said ferry, he or they so offending shall 
forfeit the sum of ten shillings for every such offense to the 
person aggrieved, to be recorded by action of debt in any 
court of record where the ferry may be cognizable, with 
cost of suit." 

Greenwich, with its water facilities, its early settle- 
ment of heroic and liberty-loving people, has more historic 
associations than any town in South Jersey. 

When Dr. George B. Wood's employees were cleaning 
swamp land and excavating for cranberry beds on his land 
in Lower Greenwich, an Indian grave was found. Among 
the bones was a tomahawk, arrowheads and wampum. Dr. 
Wood had the skeleton and relics removed to higher ground 
and erected a small monument to mark the grave of this 
unknown chief. It can be seen on the train going in or out 
from the station — on the right going out. 

After a lapse of one hundred and thirty-four years since 
the blaze of the fragrant tea lighted the old casement square 
of the village, a monument was erected to the memory of 
the tea burners. The personality of the actors has long ago 
faded into oblivion ; but the deed has illumined the pages of 



OF GREENWICH 49 

history and there has been a growing interest regarding 
them in the widening years. The unveiling of the granite 
memorial took place September 30, 1908. The day selected 
proved to be perfect, with the coolness and beauty of Sep- 
tember. The glorious sun was shining in the high heavens 
with all its magnificent splendor, clothing the town in a gar- 
ment of sunshine. The recent rains had freshened green 
sward and beauty of field and flower. The stately old syca- 
mores, elms and evergreen cedars were looking their very 
best, while the waving willows at the head of Greenwich 
street, near where the old mill stood in the town's early 
history, retained the freshness of June as they stood in 
their picturesque beauty. The well-preserved Colonial and 
old houses which represent the historic past were prettily 
trimmed with flags and bunting. As we approached the old 
tavern the mica in the stone shone with unusual brilliancy 
in the sunlight. The tavern, the Gibbon house, Bond and 
Sheppard houses, and others, were standing when the confla- 
gration of the tea took place. *The grandstand erected in the 
old Episcopal cemetery was gracefully decorated with free- 
dom's starry banner, with no canopy but heaven's boundless 
blue, made a pleasing picture to the thronging multitude 
that gathered around to see and hear the distinguished 
speakers that occupied its rostrum. Among them was the 
chief executive of the State, Governor Fort, accompanied 
by his son and private secretary ; ex-Governor Stokes, State 
Senator Minch, from Cumberland County, who presided 

*The grand stand was gratuitously decorated by Clayton McPher- 
son, of Bridgeton. 



50 REMINISCENCES 

over the unveiling ceremonies; Prof. Warren Sheppard, 
whose efforts lead to the erection of the monument. 
Mrs. Adelaide Sterling, regent of the New Jersey Society, 
Daughters of the Revolution ; Mrs. Robert Ward, a former 
regent and present vice-president-general of the order, by 
whom the monument was unveiled. Gathered around these 
distinguished personages were State Senators Avis, Brown, 
Plummer and Harrison ; Assemblymen Buck, Potter, Kin- 
ney and others from the House of Representatives. Daugh- 
ters of the Revolution, the clergy, Mr. Eli E. Rogers and 
lady members of the Tea Burning Commission, and de- 
scendants of tea burners. Two of the daughters of Green- 
wich, Mrs. Sarah Hancock and Miss Hannah Fithian, were 
dressed in costume worn in Revolutionary days. Two poems 
were read, written for the unveiling ceremonies, by Rev. 
Wainwright and Mrs. Charles Watson. The chief marshal 
of the parade was Samuel P. Fithian, a nonogenarian of 
Greenwich, who is a direct descendant of Joel Fithian, one 
of the tea burners. 

Bridgeton, the business centre of Cumberland County, 
whose old families trace their ancestry to Greenwich and 
New England town, manifested the greatest interest in the 
deed of those old Cumberland patriots of the long ago. This 
beautiful and prosperous city gave a general holiday, and 
sent its bands, militia and many of its prominent societies to 
participate in the ceremonies. They also gave a frequent 
train service which conveyed thousands to the old mother 



OF GREENWICH 5 I 

town. The sons and daughters of Greenwich came home 
from afar to honor the occasion with their presence and 
fully 8,000 people were in attendance. 

To-day, in Rome, stands the statue of Giordano Bruno, 
on the very ground where stood the old Inquisition, where 
he was confined and tortured for two years and then taken 
out and burned at the stake in 1600 for liberty of thought. 

To-day, in Greenwich, stands this beautiful monument 
that the present and future generations may know of the 
tyrant wrong the tea burners were hurling back from the 
people's liberty. 

In the present age peace societies have been organ- 
ized with brightest ideals, aiming to settle all disputes 
and troubles that may arise between nations by inter- 
national arbitration. "So that nation shall not lift up sword 
against nation, nor shall they learn war any more." The 
echoes of that glorious song of old is ringing world-wide 
that came by night to the listening shepherds on fair Judea's 
plains, "Peace on earth, good will to men." That angel song 
that heralded the advent of the Prince of Peace, of whom 
it is said of the increase of His government and peace there 
shall be no end ; for His righteous teachings when applied 
brings "peace between man and man." "For the work of 
righteousness is peace, quietness and assurance forever." 



52 REMINISCENCES 



Like a dream within a dream 
Comes the memory of a stream 
Gliding like a gilded thought 
Through its marsh meads, and caught 
Like a tired child after play, 
To the bosom of the bay. 
Backward from its reedy shores 
Rows of ancient sycamores 
Mix their boughs and interlace 
In a slumbrous, fond embrace 
Where the one wide street runs down 
To the wharf at Greenwich town. 
There on many a sunny morn, 
Wagons heaped with wheat and corn 
And the fruit of lowland farms, 
Halt, while sunburnt, brawny arms 
Bear their burdens from the pier 
To the steamer lying near. 
When a deeper silence falls 
On the village and the calls 
Of the robin and the thrush 
Louder thrill through Sabbath's hush 
In the green and shadowy street 



OF GREENWICH 53 

Placid Quaker couples meet; 
Ancient farmers with their dames ; 
-Maidens with quaint, pleasing names ; 
Pallid cheek and cheek of rose, 
Smooth alike in calm repose ; 
Tresses braided shyly down 
Over eyes of clearest brown ; 
Broad-brimmed hats and bonnets gray, 
'Neath the branches wend their way 
Toward the meeting house that stands 
Overlooking fertile lands. 
Many a sail of sunlit snow, 
Birdlike, journeying to and fro, 
Speeds its precious cargo through 
The far-distant shimmering blue. 
And the low clouds lazily 
Drifting eastward toward the sea, 
Float in floods of amber light, 
Till, slow fading from the sight, 
They dissolve and disappear 
In the golden atmosphere. 
When at night the beacons glow, 
Over tides that ebb and flow, 
Over shoals of silver sand, 
By the salt sea breezes fanned, 
Pinning fast her sable gown 
With a star above the town, 



54 REMINISCENCES 

Darkness hovers — here and there, 
Lighted by a casement square. 
Sleeps the village with its green 
Turned to blackness ; and between, 
Where the feeble starlight flings 
Shadows of phantasmal things, 
Winds the roadway fair and wide, 
With its path on either side. 
On the wharf I sit and dream 
While the stars throw many a beam — 
Make a soft and silver streak 
On the stillness of the creek ; 
And a vessel, through the haze 
Of the old colonial days, 
Like a spectre seems to ride 
On the inward flowing tide ; 
Like a phantom it appears 
Faintly through the hundred years 
That have vanished since its sails 
Braved the fierce Atlantic gales. 
Are they risen from the graves? 
Those dark figures, clad as braves, 
Of the dusky tribal hosts 
That of old possessed these coasts? 
Swift they glide from 'neath the trees, 
The ill-fated stores to seize. 
Noiselessly, with whispered jests, 



OF GREENWICH 55 

High they heap the fragrant chests, 

'Round the gnarled trunk that still 

Lifts its limbs on yonder hill ; 

And, at once a ruddy blaze 

Skyward leaps and madly plays, 

Snapping, crackling o'er the pyre, 

Till, with patriotic fire, 

All that costly cargo, doomed, 

Unto ashes is consumed! 

Back the ship drifts through the haze, 

And the figures with the blaze 

Fade and vanish from the sight 

As the moon swells clear and bright. 

First a slender silver line, 

Then Diana's bow divine, 

Quarter, half, three-quarters, till 

All the heaven seems to fill. 

As the orb's full-rounded girth 

Like a bubble fills the earth; 

Lo ! the lamps, by twos and three, 

Fade among the village trees — 

From the narrow casement fade. 

Till no mortal beams invade 

With their keen and curious light 

The unconquered realms of night. 

C. H. L. 
—From the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 



LB My 'I 



REMINISCENCES 

OF 

GREENWICH 



BY 



BESSIE AYARS ANDREWS 

author of 

'Historical Sketches of Greenwich in Old Conhansev 

"Colonial and Old Houses of Greenwich" 



PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 



VINELAND, NEW JERSEY 
1910 



3^ 



70 



